MERCURY

Retire, you household-gods, and leave these excellent creatures to be entertained by a more eminent deity. Hail King, and Queen of the Islands, called truly fortunate, and by you made so; To tell you, who I am, and wear all these notable, and speaking ensigns about me, were to challenge you of most impossible ignorance, and accuse my self of as palpable glory: It is enough that you know me here, and come with the licence of my father JOVE, who is the bounty of heaven, to give you early welcome to the bower of my mother MAIA, no less the goodness of earth. And may it please you to walk, I will tell you no wonderful story. This place, whereon you are now advanced (by the mighty power of Poetry , and the help of a faith, that can remove mountains) is the Arcadian hill CYLLENE, the place, where my self was both begotten, and born; and of which I am frequently called CYLLENIUS: Under yonder purslane tree stood sometime my cradle. Where, now, behold my more there MAIA, sitting in the pride of her plenty, gladding the air with her breath, and cheering the spring with her smiles. At her feet, the blushing AURORA, who, with her rosy hand, casts her honey dews on those sweeter herbs, accompanied with that gentle wind, FAVONIUS, whose subtle spirit, in the breathing forth, FLORA makes into flowers, and sticks them in the grass, as if she contended to have the embroidery of the earth, richer then the cope of the sky. Here, for her month, the year lie delicate May keeps state; and from this Mount , takes pleasure to dis play these valleys, yoned lesser hills, those statelier edifices, and towers, that seem enamoured so far off, and are reared on end, to behold her, as if their utmost object were her beauty's. Hither the Dryads of the valley, and Nymphs of the great river come every morning, to taste of her favors; and depart away with laps filled with her bounties. But, see! upon your approach their pleasures are instantly remitted. The birds are hushed, ZE PHYRE is still, the MORN forbears her office, FLORA is dumb, and herself amazed, to behold two such marvels, that do more adorn place, then she can time; Pardon, your Majesty, the fault, for it is that hath caused it; and till they can collect their spirits, think silence, and wonder the best adoration. And MERCURY, her son, shall venture the displeasure of his father, with the whole bench of Heaven , that day, but he will do his mother's intents all serviceable assistance. Till then, and ever, live high and happy, you, and your other you; both envied for your Fortune's, loved for your graces, and admired for your virtues. Again, great pair, I salute you; and with leave of all the gods: whose high pleasure it is, that MERCURY make this your holiday. May all the blessings both of earth, and heaven, concur to thank you: For till this days sun, I have faintly enjoyed a minutes rest to my crea cion. Now, I do, and acknowledge it you sole, and no less the divine be fit. If my desire to delight you, might not divert to your trouble, I would entreat your eyes to a new, and strange spectacle; a certain son of mine, whom the Arcadians call a God, howsoever the rest of the world receive him: It is the horned PAN, whom in the translated figure of a goat I be God on the fair Spartan PENELOPE; MAY, let both your ears, and looks forgive it: These are but the lightest escapes of our Deities. And, it is better in me, to prevent his rustic impudence, by my blushing ac knowledgement, then, anon, by his rude, and not insolent claim, be en forced to confess him. Yonder he keeps, and with him the wood Nymphs , whose leader he is in rounds, and dances, to this Syluane mu sique. The place, about which they skip, is the fount of laughter, or BACCHUS spring; whose statue is advanced on the top; and from whose pipes, at and observed hour of the day, there flows a lusty liquour, that hath the present virtue to expel sadness; and within certain minutes after it is tasted, force all the mirth of the spleen into the face. Of this is PAN the Guardian. Lo! the fountain begins to run, but the Nymphs at your sighed are fled. PAN, and his Satires wildly stand at gaze. I will approach, and question him: vouchsafe your ear, and forgive his beha uiour, which (even to me, that am his parent) will no doubt be rude enough, though otherwise full of salt, which, except my presence did temper, might turn to be gall, and bitterness; but that shall charm him. All humane. Only, these two are deities on earth, but such, as the greatest powers of heaven may resign to. PAN, you are too rude. I am sure, thy last rudeness cannot; for it makes me seriously ashamed. I will not labour his excuse, since I know you more ready to par done, then he to trespass: but, for your singular patience, tender you all abundance of thanks; and, mixing with the Master of the place, in his wishes, make them my divinations: That your loves be ever flourishing as May, and your house as fruitful: That your acts exceed the best, and your years the longest of your predecessors: That no bade fortune touch you, nor good change you. But still, that you triumph, in this facility, over the ridiculous pride of other Princes; and for ever live safe in the love, ra there, then the fear of your subjects.